Hunter Games
by Robias
Summary: A crossover with the SPN characters in the Hunger games universe. I don't know if I'll continue it or not. Possible future Destiel
1. Part 1

Word count: 400-ish

Genre: Drama, angst, family

Rating: worksafe

Note: Got the prompt Supernatural/Hunger Games AU.

* * *

The nightmares had started weeks before.

In the beginning, Dean always managed to wake Sam up before it got too bad, but then he started having them more and more often, and Dean couldn't always be there. One day, when he came back from the woods, he was met halfway into the village by Ellen, who told him that Sam had collapsed in school and that they had had to bring him to Pamela because he was cramping so bad.

Another time, the day before the Reaping, the Peacekeepers brought Sam home, warning Dean that if his little brother ever caused a commodity like the one he's just brought on down by the market, they'd have no other choice than to bring him into custody.

Dean swore on his life that it wouldn't happen again, dragged Sam into the house and shut the door. But when he sat Sam down by the kitchen table to ask him what in the living hell was going on, Sam wouldn't answer him, only complained that he had a headache and needed to go to bed.

That night, Sam's screams woke him up just before dawn.

Dean was in Sam's room before he'd even registered being awake, pushing his brother flat against the mattress to stop his flailing, using his entire body weight to hold him down.

"_Sam_," he hissed urgently. "_Shut up_, Sam, be quiet, you're gonna wake Dad! It's just a dream, man, come on, snap out of it!"

Sam jolted awake, and instantly wriggled his arms free of Dean's grip to tug him closer. Dean blinked as Sam clung to him, sobbing into his shirt and begging them _don't_ _touch me, leave me alone, don't take, please don't take, don't pick_—

"_Sssshh_", Dean said, hands coming up to card through his little brother's too-long hair, trail soothing patterns over his still twitching back. "They're not gonna pick you, Sammy. Your name isn't in there more than once this year. There's no way they're gonna take you."

He repeated his reassurances until Sam finally drew a shuddering breath, before pulling back, eyes as big greenish-brown wells of emotions looking into Dean's. The terror he saw in them halted his mantra.

"They never end up taking _me_, Dean," Sam said, voice cracking. "They take_ you_."


	2. Part 2

Word count: 600-ish

Genre: Drama, angst, family

Rating: worksafe

Note: Got the prompt Supernatural/Hunger Games AU.

* * *

Dean had known that the high infant mortality amongst girls would cause a problem for the Capitol's reaping system one day, he just hadn't expected it to be during his lifetime. But he supposed he was rather grateful for their decision about now, as he looked down at the crowd of faces which he'd grown up with, and only saw fourteen girls amongst the remaining youths waiting to find out whether they would be allowed to live another year or not.

Jo was looking up at him, tears silently running down her face. Had the system not been changed to stop dividing boys and girls at the reaping, her chances of not getting picked to join him at the Games would have been really slim, considering the amount of times her name had been put in. Now, hopefully all she'd have to grieve this year was the loss of a childhood friend. He forced himself to wink at her and she sobbed out a small laugh, waving back. She motioned towards the back of the crowd, where the commotion that had erupted at Dean's announcement was still not settling down, and then she gave him a thumbs up. She'd take care of them. Her and Ellen would make sure they were okay. Dean clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to crack as he smiled gratefully at her. He mouthed _'thank you'_.

Further back, John Winchester was holding onto a crying and screaming Sam, whose slender twelve year old frame had no chance of breaking free of his father's steady grip. Dean forced himself not to look at his brother. He couldn't. He already knew what he would see, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to continue faking bravado if he met Sam's desperation full-on. As he sought out John's gaze, however, his father nodded briefly at him, still struggling to keep his youngest son from tearing out of his grip.

Dean swallowed. He knew his father hell enough to understand what he was saying. _You did good, son. You protected your brother, like you're supposed to. I'm proud of you_.

He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. Drew a deep breath and opened them. Met his father's eyes. Nodded back.

Beside him, the reaping continued, but Dean only listened with half an year to make sure that the name called wasn't any of his close ones. It wasn't. Instead, an older boy at probably seventeen or eighteen joined him at the podium. He looked surprisingly clean and healthy for a District Twelve citizen, but then again he might be the son of a Peacekeeper or something like that. Dean found he couldn't really care less, he'd even prefer if he didn't have to know anything about this boy at all.

But as they turned together to walk back into the mayor's house, he caught the boy's eyes, and was startled by the intensity of them as they looked into his. When the door fell shut behind them, the boy disregarded the guards' prompt to step into the room to the left for his final goodbyes, instead turning towards Dean and grabbing onto his shoulder. His touch felt like a brand.

"Dean Winchester," the boy started, and Dean instantly felt bad; he had no idea what his fellow tribute was called.

"Dean, Winchester, I promise you. This will not be the last time you are with your family," the boy continued, fingers tightening around Dean's shoulder and digging into his flesh. "I will see to your safe return to them."

Dean stared at him. Well, wasn't that just great. He'd been paired with a complete lunatic. Awesome.


End file.
